


Atom's Grace and The Wrath of The Feral Queen

by mythtress



Category: Fallout (Video Games)
Genre: Blood and Violence, Canon-Typical Violence, Dead People, Fights, Megaton, Travel, children of atom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2019-01-17 12:35:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12365907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythtress/pseuds/mythtress
Summary: A young Child of Atom sets out into the Wasteland on a trial, unsure of what or who she might find.





	1. Chapter 1

Sleep hadn't visited during the night. Her excitement and trepidation about the trial had overwhelmed her senses and kept her mind buzzing. As the sun rose to kiss the parched earth of the Capital Wasteland, she sat on her cot and stared up at the seams of the patchwork metal ceiling. 

The Church of Atom stood in Megaton, built next to the undetonated warhead. A symbol of the long standing peace between the Children and the people of the wasteland town. It had been her home all her life. Her first steps had been taken across the creaking boards of the church's chapel. Her first words had been in recitation of one of Confessor Cromwell’s sermons. 

“Child.” Mother Maya’s voice brings her back to the present day, and she sits up to greet the matronly woman. “Blessings of a new day, Helain.”

“And to you, Mother Maya.” Though the sun’s light had yet to peek over the high, metal walls of Megaton, Helain was still able to make out the wrinkles that had begun to grace the woman’s face. She had aged rapidly, while Helain had grown inside the church’s walls. Maya was the wife of the Confessor, though they did not publicize their union. They had never had children of their own. Indeed, those that belonged to the church were treated as their kin, and for this Helain was grateful. She had little time to wonder about what might have been had she not been brought into the glowing embrace of Atom’s followers. 

“Did you sleep?” Maya asked, seating herself on the edge of the younger woman’s cot. 

A soft smile, and shake of her head, though her eyes betrayed her. “No. I am too... excited.”

“Yes. Excited, and afraid.” 

“Yes.” The truth slipped past with a gentle sigh. “Though I know Atom will guide me, still I am filled with doubt.”

Maya offered her hands, and like times before, Helain placed her own into the woman’s comforting aura. “To fear the unknown is only natural. Yet Atom is there to guide us. Any obstacle is there for us to overcome. So that Atom may lead us to division.” 

As she listened to Maya’s words, Helain felt something swell in her chest, a great warmth in her heart, expanding ever outward to fill her every fiber. It was a glorious feeling. One which she had always taken as a sign that this was truly her path. 

“Even after you have left these walls, Atom goes with you.” Maya wiped away the tear that had spilled onto Helain’s cheek. “Your trial begins when the sun rises past the wall. Are you ready?” 

The woman nodded, “Yes. I go with Atom.”

Confessor Cromwell stood before the symbol of his congregation. Feet at the edge of the irradiated pool in which the undetonated bomb sat. He was quiet in the early hours, contemplative, much to the enjoyment of the people of Megaton. Though he had been preaching the word of Atom for many years, and the sermons he often spoke on a daily basis were similar to any who listened regularly. He took this time to reflect on why this day in particular was important. 

Helain descended the large, rickety stairs of the church, dressed in simple, patched rags. She wore no shoes, as it was integral to feel the world Atom had created. She stood beside the Confessor, and gazed at the bomb with youthful reverence. She took in the immensity of it all. The power stored within the warhead, and how that translated to the power she carried within herself. The thought that she might never again see the great bomb, the symbol she had come to associate with Atom, or the church she had called home her whole life, crept into her thoughts. 

“Today.” Cromwell spoke the word, and it was so quiet, so far removed from his sermon speaking voice that she almost didn’t hear him. “Today, you leave us.” It was the truth and yet it still hurt to hear it put so bluntly. “Today you go, to walk with Atom.” Cromwell turned to look at her, his features heavy with years of contemplation appeared to soften for a moment. “May he lead you back to us one day.” Her face split with a wide, happy smile, eyes shining with unshed tears. 

She walked alone up the hill, towards the entrance of Megaton. Sheriff Simms was leaving his home to begin his rounds of the town, when he spotted the young woman and moved to head her off.

“Where are you headed, miss?” Simms wasn’t about to get involved with Children business, but he didn’t like seeing some girl wander out into the wasteland with nothing. She was going to die outside the door. Picked off by raiders, beasts, or slavers. Whichever found her first. 

“My trial. I...I have to go.” Helain hadn’t had any interaction with the Sheriff before. His stature was intimidating. 

Simms sighed heavily through gritted teeth, arms crossing over his chest. “Are you carrying?” Helain shook her head, having an ill, sinking feeling at his reaction. 

The metal doors began to screech, and they both glanced toward the great gate as two figures entered. A woman, dressed in deep blue and leather accents, followed by a tall broad shouldered ghoul in black, toting a heavy pack and shotgun. The woman couldn’t have been much older than herself and the aura she exuded was one of confidence, despite appearing dishevelled and covered in what Helain hoped was dried mud. She made a beeline towards Moira’s shop and the large Ghoul followed. If that woman could survive in the wasteland, perhaps Helain could to and just like that she didn’t feel quite so afraid anymore.

“Here.” Simms offered her a simple knife, shoving the handle into her palm. “I know it’s not much, and you’re going to go out there no matter what I say. So...just watch yourself.” He took off in the direction of Moira’s shop, his long strides intent on getting him in contact with the newcomers. Helain watched him retreat before she looked over the knife. It was a serrated blade with several rust spots, and the handle was wrapped with black tape and wire, worn from years of use. She pocketed the gift, unsure of how it could aid her, and continued on her way. 

“Thanks for visiting, and ya’ll come on back real soon.” Deputy Weld, the robotic gate guard, called after her, his long arms tipping the funny hat atop his cylindrical head. Helain looked back hesitantly, as the doors to Megaton closed with a succession of loud mechanical, clanking noises. Out towards the vast horizon of the Capital wasteland, the sun caused her to squint as she scanned for a direction to go. In the distance, not to far from the city, there were several flags waving in the gritty, wind. As good a place as any to start.

The earth cracked beneath her feet, gusts of wind stirring her meager rags as she made her way to what she could now discern as dilapidated buildings. She passed a large, pitted metal sign. Springvale, the fading letters could just be made out. 

The waving flags that had originally drawn Helain’s attention were frayed, aged sheets. Scrawled upon them was some sort of symbol, which was hard to see clearly as the fabric flailed about wildly against the post it had been nailed to. As she puzzled over the symbol and it's possible meaning there was a gruff tone from around the nearly collapsed wall. 

“Greetings, traveler.” A man stepped from the ruined structure, causing Helain to step back, as her fingers glided to the knife handle tucked away in her robes. The man's hands raised in supplication.

“Easy, sister. I carry no arms against you. Have you come seeking the Light?” 

“The Light?” Her mouth asked before her mind could think better of it. 

“Yes. I am Gerard and We are the Apostles of the Holy Light.” His arm swept back, and gestured toward the fallen, inner structure of the house. “Ours is a modest order, but our ranks are growing slowly, as others hear our words and are Enlightened.” The way his words curled from his mouth made Helain hesitant to question any further. However the mention of an order, and a Holy Light piqued her curiosity. 

“Do you and the other Apostles…” she glanced around the seemingly barren landscape, wondering if she had missed someone else. “Follow a particular doctrine?” 

At her words his face lit up with excitement. “Ah, I can see the glint of Atom's Light in your eyes! You must be a follower yourself, yes? I knew it as soon as I spied you. Come, you should speak with Mother Curie. I’ll show you the way.”

He ushered her inside the building. There was a contraption, consisting of piping with metal jets all along their length. Helain couldn't conceive of a use for such a thing. 

“If you wish to enter, you’ll have to first bathe in holy light.” He gestured to the odd contraption. “Feel Atom's embrace and be joyful in the knowledge that you may be one of his chosen.” 

Helain wasn't sure what he meant by chosen. All people were children of Atom in her eyes. She stepped onto the platform. “Just press the button there. Once you have been illuminated, you may enter our monastery below and speak with Mother Curie.”

There was a wooden hatch in the floor, past the contraption. Helain could see it now that she had entered further into the collapsed building. She reached out and pressed the button with a small click. There came a rushing, the sound of water through pipes, and from the metal attachments a soft mist emanated. 

Perhaps their machine was broken. 

The mist was tinged a light green, and Helain felt a gentle warmth begin to envelope her body. After a moment the misters subsided and she looked to the man, trying to hide her confusion but hopeful she could proceed. 

“How marvelous. Few take so well to the Light. You are welcome in our monastery, sister.” 

“Thank you.” Helain felt a twinge of pride at his words. He opened the hatch for her and closed it behind, as she descended a ladder made of planks. Helain found herself in a small alcove that opened into a large room, with multiple benches and a podium where someone would give sermons. It was eerie how this all so closely echoed the Church of Atom. In the pews sat a few people. A human, male, bent in prayer. A ghoul, sitting the pew closest to the podium. He sat upright, face turned towards the sign that hung upon the wall behind the podium. Helain followed his line of sight to see that it was the same symbol that had been crudely drawn on the flags outside. Three, large topless triangles, rounded on the bottom and placed in a circle around another small circle. It all at once gave her a sense of dread and reverence. 

“I see we have a newcomer.” A womanly voice caught Helain off guard, causing her to spin in place. She was faced with a woman, dressed in tattered robes, around her neck was a smaller version of the symbol on the wall. Helain stammered, not knowing what to say. “Welcome to our monastery, Sister.” The woman’s hands, clasped her on the shoulders and Helain saw the multitude of open sores that dotted her skin. “I am Mother Curie the Third. Do you seek the holy light?”  
“I….I don’t know.” Helain answered honestly, she wasn’t even sure what was going on. 

Mother Curie’s face tightened, the lesions that marked her face stretching taunt in a ghastly fashion. “I see. Let me introduce you to my son.” Mother Curie’s hands moved from her shoulder to clasp her hand in a vice like grip. “He’ll be so eager to meet such a lovely young woman. Perhaps, in his presence I can better explain our doctrine.”

“You’ve finally arrived.” 

Helain was startled by the voice that spoke. Deep, calm, and coming from behind her. She wasn’t able to get a good look at the man speaking, as he had a hood pulled over his head, but she could see he was carrying a weapon on his back. 

“Mother Curie. This is the friend I told you about. The one I’ve been waiting for.” The woman released Helain's hand as if she’d suddenly been jolted. Her face showed evidence of shock.

“Truly. Her?” She made no attempt to hide her disgust. 

“Yes, and we’ll take our leave now.” A strong hand gripped Helain's upper arm. “Thank you. May the glow ever light your path.” Helain was tugged sharply towards the same hatch she had just come through. The pair ascended together, the man seeming to have no trouble lifting the hatch with one hand.

“Sir, you’re leaving us?” Gerard seemed distraught at the idea as he watched the man help Helain through the hatch. “And you’re taking our new sister with you?” 

“Yes. May the glow light your path.” The words seemed to supplicate the apostle, as the man grabbed Helain and he had them off at a brisk pace away from the buried Monastery. After some distance and Helain tripping more than once upon the broken streets of Springvale, the man conceded to stopping. 

Helain doubled over herself, hands braced on her knees, breathing raggedly. She noticed, with a hit to her dignity, that the man didn’t seem phased at all by their sudden get away. “Who...who are you?” She asked between getting her breathing back under control. As she watched the man, she saw the weapon he carried. It was a long, pole arm, a nasty looking point on the end. She wouldn’t stand a chance if she tried to fight or run. 

“Avalon.” He turned to face her after scanning their surroundings, and pulled the hood away. “My name is Avalon Lee, and you are?” He was a Ghoul, face scared, nose cavity exposed, but the thing that struck Helain about him was his left eye appeared grey, blind. She also noticed he had some hair left, falling to the right side of his head, it was the color the clouds were on rare occasions. 

“Hel...Helain.” She wheezed out, wincing at the pain in her feet. 

Avalon smirked. “Shining light, glowing bright. How auspicious.”

“What?” 

He shook his head. “It’s nothing. Will you be alright now, on your own?” He glanced down to her feet, then back up to her face. “I suppose not.”

Helain felt herself prickle at the insult. “Now, listen here whoever you are, what was that back there? Hm? What you said to Mother Curie and what’s so bad about her son, anyway? Why couldn’t I stay with the Eternal Light? They didn’t seem that bad.” 

Avalon waited for her little tirade to end, before he responded in the same calm manner he’d been using the whole time. Almost like he was speaking to a child. “Mother Curie’s son is a glowing one.” Helain gasped. “The Eternal Light believe that Ghoulification is the ultimate form of Atom’s love. They all wish to become Ghouls. So they douse themselves in radiation in the hopes of inciting a transformation.”

“Then she was going to...to me?”

“You already had to bathe in the light to get in. Do you feel ill?” 

Helain shook her head. “No. It...it felt nice, actually.” She felt her cheeks warm at saying it aloud. 

Avalon stood a moment looking her over, it made her feel uneasy. “Interesting.”

“What’s interesting?”

“Nothing.” 

Helain grunted in frustration. “Were you really waiting for me?”

“What?” The question had seemingly pulled the ghoul out of his own thoughts.

“Was I the one you were waiting for? You said that to Mother Curie and she sure didn’t seem to think so.”

Avalon nodded. “No. It wasn’t you, in particular. But I was waiting…” He seemed to fade off into his own thoughts again. The wind finding them in their miniscule hiding spot. Helain braced herself against it, thinking of what to do next. She still had her trial, not even a single day into it, and already she’d almost ended up dead. She sighed, deeply. 

“A journey of a thousand miles, I suppose.” Avalon said suddenly.

“What?” Helain looked up from where she’d been drawing in the sand.

He eyed her, incredulously. “It’s just a very old saying. Meaning that even the longest and most difficult ventures have a starting point.” He moved to leave their shelter and she followed, not really having any other place to go.

Avalon turned his face towards the northern horizon. “We had better get started.”

“Get started?” She felt confused, and not the least bit terrified. Just like when she’d left Megaton only several hours earlier.

“You’d be better company than no one.” He mentioned, as he moved off in the same direction he’d been facing. Helain stomped her foot in the earth, feeling petulance rise up in revolt of his words. As his figure drew further away from her the feeling faded rapidly, and she ran to catch up.


	2. The Paths We Walk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pair continue on their way, toward a broken highway. Helain is confronted by her own shortcomings. She must learn or perish.

Their silence was swept away by the arid winds that hounded them as they continued on their way. Helain had followed the Ghoul, several paces behind, her feet beginning to crack from exposure. The crimson footprints she left in their wake were painful, and caused her to continue to lag further behind him.    
  
She remained focused on the broken earth in front of her, wincing with each step. Not realizing he had drawn out of her sight. Helain’s face grimaced as her blood encrusted foot hauled itself free of the ground, but before it came to rest in front of her the barren soil rumbled, causing her to hesitate. The earth swelled in front of her, mounding up, until finally the surface was broken by a set of glinting black eyes, six pairs of them, set into the shimmering shell of a Radscorpion. The bright red hue of its chittering  mandibles was in stark contrast with the dark coloration of it’s shell, and the color of it’s pincers, that snapped away excess soil that had collected between the jagged crevices.   
  
Helain’s eyes widened as the creature revealed itself, taking a few stumbling steps back, until her body became unwilling to move further. Every fiber of her being was screaming at her to move, to flee from the danger before her, but her body refused to respond. Even her voice left her, unable to call to her new companion for help. Her eyes searched around the body of the encroaching creature and realized with horror that the Ghoul was nowhere to be seen. He’d left her behind, and now she was going to die. Helain felt the tears well up in her eyes.   
  
It was too fast to see, but she felt it. A rush of air past her cheek, and then there was a pole sticking out of the scorpion’s mouth, rooting it to the spot, it’s blood trickling down the shaft and staining the ground. She felt a force on her shoulder and suddenly she was being pulled away, off her feet, flung back from the danger. Everything was happening so quickly, but also so slowly. Avalon was there, one hand grasping hold of the spear, and the other had saved her. The scorpion wasn’t dead though, it’s mandibles nashed around the weapon, grasping it in place, and reached for the Ghoul with it’s pincers.    
  
Taking hold of the spear with both hands, he wrenched it free and jumped back, just in time to avoid the scorpion’s tail. The stinger struck the ground, creating a small crater. It hissed, sputtering blood in a wild arch. Helain scrambled back on her hands, eyes wide, unblinking, as she watched the battle play out. Avalon swung the spear, taking up a new stance, readying himself for another assault by the predator.    
  
He was right to do so as the scorpion charged him, snapping it’s pincers at his legs. The Ghoul used the spear as a pivot, avoiding the beast’s attack to guide himself onto the scorpion’s back. The spear and stinger struck one another as Avalon raised the spear to guard himself. He produced a pistol and placed one shot between the scorpion’s plating. It shuddered, and slumped to the ground, body going as limp as it’s exoskeleton would allow. A deep sigh escaped him as he hoisted himself off the creature’s back. He looked over the Radscorpion for a time, before his half dead gaze fell onto Helain. She felt herself shrink back as he strided in her direction.    
  
“You’re bleeding.” He commented. She glanced down at her aching feet.    
  
“I...yes.” It was then that she noticed he was not wearing any foot coverings either. It was odd, as he was covered in what appeared to be multiple layers of clothing.   
  
“You should have said something, earlier. I would have slowed down.” He began to tear some of the cloth from a sleeve, ripping it into strips.    
  
“You aren’t wearing any shoes. Why?”    
  
“I’m a Ghoul. We’re different.” Helain scowled at his quick answer, displeased with it’s simplicity. He didn’t strike her as a man of simple answers. She winced as he wrapped a strip of cloth around her foot.    
  
“I don’t believe you.” She gasped as he tightened the cloth into place with a knot.    
  
“You may choose to believe whatever you like.” He rotated her foot, the cloth tinged red. “It is not my purpose to change your mind. Humans and Ghouls are fundamentally different. That is just fact.”   
  
“That is not why you don’t wear shoes.” Helain’s conviction was enough to garner his attention. Avalon stopped his ministrations and looked her squarely in the face.    
  
“Then do tell. Why is it, that I don’t wear shoes?”   
  
“You’re a Child of Atom.” She glanced away, her resolve leaving her, and her voice becoming a whisper. “Like...like me.” It suddenly struck her how absurd it was to say something like that. They couldn’t have been more different. For his part, he didn’t strike her for making such an impertinent accusation. He didn’t even laugh in her face. No, he waited, silently, for her to look at him again, before continuing their conversation.    
  
“That’s an...interesting idea. How did you come to that conclusion?”    
  
“You were waiting inside the Monastery, and...and what you said to the Apostles, may the glow ever light your path, and you don’t wear shoes; to feel the world of Atom, right?” She took a breath to calm herself. She didn’t understand the excitement that was coursing through her, but it was exhilarating. “ People don’t do those sorts of things. Believers do.” A wide smile broke out on her face. Avalon sat back on his haunches, staring at her for a moment, before a small smirk quirked his lips.    
  
“You’re perceptive. You were thinking about that while we’ve been walking.” She nodded. “I see. From now on try to be more perceptive of the world around you.” He glanced to the carcass of the Radscorpion. “That would have made you a main course while you were contemplating my devotedness.”   
  
She paled at the beast and bowed her head. “Thank you for saving me...again.”   
  
“You’re in no shape to look after yourself.” She scowled, but knew he spoke true. “You came out here without any water, food, a weapon.”   
  
“I have a weapon!” She produced the small knife, presenting it proudly.    
  
Avalon’s stifled laughter would have been rather cute if it hadn’t been about her only means of protection. “What are you going to do with that? Tickle your attacker?”    
  
Helain huffed, shuffling the blade back into her robes. They were in close enough proximity for her to clearly see his own weapon. The tightly woven, spiraling metal of the spear was dark in color with odd patches of red. The shaft was wrapped at different parts with cloth, wire, tape, and leather scraps at different intervals along its length. The piercing end was of a material she didn't recognize. It was bound to the shaft by every contrivance, looped and wrapped over and over again where it met the metal. The spear tip had the most delicate curve to it, ending in a sharp, broad point.    
  
“We’ll head to the broken highway.” He pointed, and Helain squinted, at a structure barely visible in the distance. “With any luck, there might be a place for you to rest.” He moved as if to pick her up.   
  
“I’ll walk.” She protested, moving to her hands and knees.    
  
“If you’re certain.”   
  
She grimaced against the pain as she stood up. “Yes. I don't want to be anymore of a burden to you.”    
  
The sun had moved across the sky, beginning it's descent by the time they neared the shattered freeway. A broken band of abandoned cars lined the roadway, leading off in either direction. Helaine gaped at the massive structure overhead, a great construct of concrete and steel, an overpass Avalon informed her. She couldn't understand what it was for, as she saw the noses of several vehicles peeking over the broken edge.    
  
Avalon led them slowly towards a larger vehicle, spear at hand, ready to defend should anything free itself from a metal husk. The shelter he was after was a cargo hauler, door still closed, resting at an angle on the road. The freeway remained eerily silent.    
  
As they drew closer, it became painfully apparent why the door was still shut. A heavy lock barred entry to the truck. The ghoul grabbed hold of it, twisting and pulling in one solid stroke and the lock gave a snap, like a stick. He let the pieces clatter to the ground and heaved the door open with one hand. Helain’s eyes widened at the display of brute force, as he climbed inside. She took his proffered hand, and was hoisted easily into the truck bed. Avalon’s strength was startling, as what she could see of his body wasn’t heavy, or laden with bulging muscle.   
  
The Ghoul grumbled as he glanced around the truck. There were several pallets, with barrels resting upon those.    
  
“Nothing.” Helain nodded as she glanced over the lettering on the barrels. She knew the shapes, though she could not formulate them into words. “I’ll have to head back. Gather up some of that scorpion for you to eat.”    
  
“You’re going to leave me here?” The question came out far more pathetic than she'd meant.    
  
“Only for a while. Stay hidden until I return.” Avalon leapt from the back of the vehicle, turning to pull the door shut. Small shafts of light filtered through a multitude of holes. Helain shuffled around the barrels, towards the back of the container. She found a corner and slid down to the floor. Her feet throbbed, as she thought about everything that had happened on the first day of her trial. Going over it all only made her more confused and exhausted, sleep found her as the light outside dimmed.    
  
A sudden, rapid burst of gunfire startled her awake. It had been close, she could tell even muffled by the metal of the truck container. A set of boisterous voices, taunting laughter, and another round of gunfire. Helain’s breathing became erratic. Had Avalon come back? Had he been attacked? Were these people fighting something? What if they found her? The stream of thoughts was cut off as bullets ripped into the truck. She instinctively threw her arms over her head, cowering lower in her corner, as the horrible noise of metal shredding metal filled the darkened space. There was yelling from outside, panicked cries, another round of bullets and then silence.    
  
The door to the cargo holder was flung open with force, making a great clattering noise. She pressed herself as deep into the corner as she could, pulling the knife from her robes.    
  
“Helain?” Avalon looked round the barrel, strands of his cloud colored hair falling over his one good eye. “There you are. Are you alright, stray bullet didn’t hit you?” He glanced at the knife, then back to her frightened face. “Put that away and come help me.” He was gone in an instant, and it took her several more before she could collect herself enough to follow.   
  
Outside there was a wide, soaring, ark of blood across the truck, that splayed onto the road like a trail, and led to two bodies; which lay side by side amid the broken asphalt. Helain stopped short, feeling her legs weaken at the sight before her. One body sported a wide gash across the neck; the other had a single piercing chest wound that still appeared to be weeping.    
  
“There you are.” The Ghoul’s words dragged the woman's eyes away to where he was sitting on the bumper of an old, rusted out vehicle. “First time seeing a body?” His voice was a calming beacon and she moved toward it, glancing back every so often at the pair on the ground. She nodded in answer to the question once she reached the car, and crumpled down next to him.   
  
“I see. First time with these types of bodies then.” A small, short sigh escaped him. “Their path crossed ours, chaotic and aggressive; so don't go feeling to bad for them.”    
  
“Paths?” It was an odd way of saying things, or maybe it was that she didn't understand what he meant. In the few, fleetng hours they’d spent in each other's company, Helain was betting on both.    
  
“Yes, our paths crossed. We’re walking a trail of knowledge and understanding, or so I presume.” His good eye fell on her a moment before drifting away. “Theirs was one of violence, and they happened upon us. They made their choice, according to what they believe, as did I, and I will shed no tears for them.” Helain felt a chill run through her. Though she should be glad for Avalon's protection, she couldn't shake the weight of his words.    
  
“You should take their gear.” Helain’s eyes widened.   
  
“What?”    
  
“Take their gear and valuables, for trade. Strip them of their things. Go on.” The nonchalant way in which Avalon said it, waving her towards the dead duo, only made her distress swell.   
  
“I...I don't think I…” The Ghoul's fist denting the car’s trunk brought her attention front and center.    
  
“Learn.” The simple command had her skittering over to the deceased pair. She looked them over, fingers twitching with dread. The one with a slashed throat had goggles covering most of his face, caked in grime but intact, they’d be useful for keeping the wind and sun out of her own eyes. She pulled at the strap of the goggles, yanking them free and causing the man’s head to shift and roll. The wound gaped open, allowing her a clear view down the man's throat and making a decidedly sickening squelch. She felt bile well up in her throat but swallowed it back. Moving around the body she noticed a bandalero, or perhaps something akin to one. Belts, stitched together, and several makeshift pouches attached to it. She fiddled with the clasp, finding her fingers uncooperative this close to a dead man. Gripping the thing she pulled, but it remained firmly in place. Helain repositioned herself, placing a knee to the man’s stomach as leverage and yanked. Her knee sank into his still warm flesh and a gurgled rushing gush escaped his severed neck. Deep colored sludge mixed with crimson seeped down the sides and pooled on the ground.    
  
Helain pushed herself away, feeling her body’s horrified reaction. She turned herself over, dry heaving, retching on all fours, but her stomach held nothing to dispel.    
  
“That's right, you haven't eaten.” Avalon made the offhanded comment as he hopped off the bumper and turned his back from the sight of her. The trunk of the vehicle squealed open after a moment. “Bring me some of their clothes, not to blood soaked, so I can start a fire.” Helain wiped at her eyes with a sleeve, staring at his back in mild disbelief. She sniffled, and scuffled back toward the bodies. “Maybe try using that knife you’re so proud of?” The ghoul offered, voice growing distant as he walked away around the car.    
  
Helain drew the knife as she took hold of the man’s pant leg. She felt herself hiccup, nearly gag, the churning in her stomach renew as she looked up at his face. This entire experience felt so strange, like it wasn’t her that was doing any of it. The weight of the dead man’s goggles now perched on her head told her otherwise. The seam shredded against the knife’s jagged edge, the noise of her task distracted her from Avalon dumping armfuls of rubble into the trunk. Helain was meticulous, carving the men’s clothes off as if she were a tanner not wanting to waste a single scrap of hide. When she finally presented the pieces to Avalon, he gave her the smallest of smiles.    
  
“Those will be perfect.” He chucked most of them on top of the rocks that now lay in the trunk, keeping one strip for himself, which he wrapped loosely around a sharp,light colored rock, roughly the size of his palm. Taking a piece of metal he struck against the cloth, once, twice…   
  
Helain gasped lightly. There had been a spark.    
  
Avalon brought the cloth close to his mouth and breathed quickly on the spot he had struck, as curls of grey smoke began to swirl up from the material. He slipped both his hand and the rock from it as flames erupted from the cloth and he let it fall into the trunk. The Ghoul proceeded to add kindling, a small bundle of dead sticks, as the rest of the clothing shreds ignited.    
  
“Where’d you get the wood from?” Helain felt an odd numbness flowing through her, as the newborn fire’s light cast shadows on their faces.   
  
“Picked it up on my way back. I didn’t think you the type for consuming raw meat.” Avalon didn’t seem one to attempt humor and Helain wasn’t in a laughing mood. He hoisted several pieces of the scorpion’s carapace from a bag and placed them inside, directly on top of the fire, and then closed the trunk. “Learned how to do this with...someone, back when scorpions were still new on the menu.” His hand slipped from the car and turned his gaze to the two dead men. “It’s gonna take awhile, so let’s see what you missed.”   
  
Though she had spent her time hacking up their clothing, rather than ransacking their corpses, there wasn't much she had missed. The pair of would be raiders hadn't been well off. A couple of bullets that had fallen from one's pocket, a single metal stud in the others ear. Jewellery still held some value to the right people. Finally he motioned to their shoes.    
  
“Just because we don't wear them, doesn't mean they don't have value to other people.” He tied the laces of each pair together, making them easy to sling over a shoulder. “There, you’ll be able to get a few caps for everything in Tin Valley.”    
  
“Tin Valley?” Helain tossed the bandalero to the ground, she felt wrong wearing the gear of dead men. “Is that where the path goes next?”    
  
Avalon nodded, not really seeming to hear her, as he stared off towards the middle distance. Helain wondered if that was the direction of Tin Valley. A thought suddenly occurred to her.    
  
“Where are their weapons?” She glanced at the two dead men. “They shot at you. Where are their guns?”    
  
The ghoul's good eye slid onto her. “Do you know how to shoot?” A valid question, with her apparent lack of exposure to the wasteland and it's threats.    
  
“Well, no...not really. You aim, and pull a trigger. I know that. But you don't need both of their guns, right?” Helain tried a reasonable approach. Avalon seemed a reasonable sort.   
  
“I also don't need you shooting me... accidentally or not.” He squashed her argument before she opened her mouth. “But there's gonna be a few days before we get to the valley so, maybe you could practice...with supervision.”   
  
Helain smiled softly, giving a small nod. If he was able to teach, then she’d become a willing student.    
  
The scorpion was done soon, smoked inside it's own shell. Avalon used his spear to open the trunk and skewer each piece off the bed of hot rocks. Helain didn't even stop to think how that same weapon had been used to skewer a person just a short while before. She was overtaken with hunger, nails scraping at the softened carapace to get at the succulent meat inside. As she clawed it open a plume of steam erupted, and a distinct hiss, echoing the beast's own, escaped the pale, quivering meat. Avalon didn't partake, so she proceeded to gorge herself, despite the meat being flavorless.    
  
With a full stomach and the day's events settling into her bones, exhaustion easily overtook her where she sat; and she dreamed.


End file.
